


The Jewel of Asgard

by Cassiopeia13



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Genderfluid Loki, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), M/M, Minor Character Death, Not Siblings, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-11-03 23:31:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17887196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassiopeia13/pseuds/Cassiopeia13
Summary: What if Heimdall had adopted Loki instead of Odin? What if Thor and Loki grew up best friends instead of brothers? What if Loki had never needed a glamour to hide what he was and grew up loved?Based off chats at the adult (23 and older) Thorki Lives Discord serverHERE





	1. Heimdall

The war was nearly over. After decades of fighting, the Jotunar were pushed back into their realm and the Casket of Ancient Winters was close to being seized. I could see it all as I stood in the observatory watching in my mind’s eye as the future wrote and rewrote itself as Odin pressed on. I saw my king lose an eye, saw the downfall of the Jotunar, and saw Ásgarð prosper with the Casket hidden deep in her vaults. Everything was falling into place and I couldn’t help the small smile that graced my face, pleased that my King would be returning to his queen and tiny son shortly.  As future and present started to merge in my mind’s eye exactly as I had seen it unfold, something shifted and I frowned. A naming ceremony for a newly born Jötunn was to be performed in an ancient temple, and as I watched, everything Ásgarð had worked for fell apart. 

 

The baby, small like the Æsir, would grow into a powerful sorcerer capable of bringing Ásgarð to her knees. I watched my planet burn, watched my king and queen get captured and my young prince, a man in my vision and powerful in his own right, face off against the small Jötunn whose power was unmatched. I watched several scenarios play out, but all led to the same place, Asgard burning and Thor fighting for the lives of his people though I couldn’t see the outcome of the fight, only the location it would take place. Even without seeing the result of Thor facing off against the unknown Jotunn, I knew I had to stop that future from happening. Stepping into the Bifrost without hesitation I directed the portal to my king’s location and within seconds appeared in front of Odin. 

 

“Majesty!” I called, watching Odin, with one eye missing just as I’d seen, turn to me. “There’s a temple we must get to. A child is being honoured and we must not let the babe remain on Jötunheim. The future of Ásgarð depends on it.”

 

“Give him a horse!” Odin called immediately, trusting my word without hesitation. One of the guards dismounted, giving me his horse which I took quickly and turned in the direction of the temple. I knew Odin and the guards were following.

 

As I’d had seen, the Jotunar gathered together in a temple made entirely of ice lit up by some unknown source of power. A procession followed the gatherers and at the end, a large Jötunn carrying a tiny blue baby in one hand. Though the child was small, the giant looked at their son with fondness and love, speaking softly to keep the babe quiet. Odin chose that moment to attack, rushing forward on horseback with his sword drawn causing the Jotunar to run, crashing through the back door in their attempt to escape to the Æsir guards rushing through the front door. 

 

One large giant, much larger than any of the others had another by the waist pulling him back as the smaller giant fought to move forward. “Let me go!” The giant roared, kicking at the other. He fought hard, struggling to move forward and when I looked over, I understood why. The baby was on an altar, alone and crying. “I will not leave him!”

 

“You can’t help him now!” The larger giant boomed. “He is lost to the Æsir! No good comes from your death.” 

 

With a growl, the smaller giant turned and punched the large giant in the eye forcing him to let go. The giant scrambled forward towards the altar and covered the baby with his body, whispering softly even as his people were dying around him. “It’s okay, Little One,” the giant whispered, “do not cry, Loki. You are loved. Never fear you are lo-” 

 

My eyes widened as I watched Odin thrust his sword deep into the giant’s back, killing him instantly and without mercy. The giant fell and a roar of pain echoed around the temple as the larger giant rushed to move forward. Several other giants surrounded the large one, pushing him from the temple even as he raged for who I realised must have been his mate. I turned back to the altar, walking over to the once again crying baby with Odin standing over him. “Majesty,” I  whispered softly placing a hand on my king’s wrist. 

 

Odin paused, dagger held above the screaming baby ready to strike. “Heimdall? You said this child will be our downfall. He must be destroyed.”

 

“He is but a babe,” I said gently unable to watch as a helpless creature was murdered, “and has done no wrong. Are we so cruel we kill children now?” Odin scowled but lowered his hand, looking at the baby whose eyes had turned a vibrant gold. “We cannot allow him to remain on Jötunheim, but killing him would be wrong.”

 

Odin glared but sheathed the dagger. “Then you take him. Raise him however you want. If he’s powerful like you say, then we can train him in the art of  seiðr  to be used later in our army. He is your responsibility or I kill him here.”

 

The little baby looked up at Heimdall, quiet now and curious as my king and I stood over him. He wiggled, kicking his little blue legs and let out a little giggle. His eyes were a beautiful shade of gold, matching mine almost perfectly while his skin remained a light dusky blue. I smiled and picked him up, holding him close to my chest and rocked him gently. “Your parent was right, Loki,” I whispered, “you will be loved.”


	2. The First Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heimdall learns that being a parent isn't always easy, but after several months, he and Loki slip into a routine.

People say that having a child is natural, that once you hold your child for the first time there will be instant love and you’ll know instinctively what to do and how to care for the baby. Heimdall could tell those people with one hundred percent certainty that that was a load of shite. There was no magical knowledge imparted to him on how to care for a tiny baby, no instant connection with the understanding of what the baby wanted and at two o’clock in the morning when the baby was crying there was definitely no flowery words with declarations of love. At two o’clock in the morning the only words Heimdall knew were, “for the love of the Norns, please go back to sleep.”

The first week of Loki living on Ásgarð was full of sleep deprivation, messy diapers that could strip the paint off a wall, and a lot of begging on Heimdall’s part (and one moment of complete weakness when Heimdall attempted to bargain with the tiny infant, “if you go to sleep, I’ll buy you a pony”). The begging (and bargaining) didn’t work, and Loki would wail at all hours of the day and night until he was held, skin to skin, against a strong chest and rocked while Heimdall sang to him. It was lucky for both of them that the watcher had a fairly pleasant singing voice, and Loki would slip off into sleep with the soft notes whispered into his ear. 

The second month wasn’t as bad as the first. Heimdall began to understand Loki’s routine and had a chance to read many books on child rearing. He made sure to have a bottle ready for Loki’s feeding every two hours during the day and change his diaper right before he put Loki down for the night. He wasn’t sure what changed halfway through the second month, but instead of the two a.m. wake up calls with wails at a decibel level no sane person could stand for longer than five minutes, Loki began to sleep until nearly five thirty. Though it was still early, Heimdall was no longer jolted awake by loud wailing sobs, but instead, Loki had started cooing and giggling to himself. When the watcher would get up to check on him, he often found his new son kicking his little feet and watching the mobile twirl around his head, spun by Loki’s own internal magic. 

By the third month, the new family began venturing out of Heimdall’s home together, Loki cradled gently in the crook of his father’s arm as they walked through the markets of Ásgarð. Though Loki was blue, and the Jötunnar weren’t well liked, it was nearly impossible not to coo at a beautiful child. Heimdall smiled when the vendors and patrons stopped what they were doing to meet his new son and coo over how adorable he was. And Loki was adorable; dusky blue skin with faint purple lines that intersected his entire body, bright golden eyes and a head full of beautiful silky black curls. There was also rarely a moment when the babe did not have a smile on his face which only helped the people of Ásgarð falling in love with the new child. 

“He’s beautiful,” Frigga cooed, cuddling the tiny baby in her arms. Thor, at the age of two, had no interest in a baby and was exploring the Bifrost observatory while his mother was occupied. “How are you two getting along?” The queen asked, as if Loki and Heimdall were co-workers paired up for a project. 

The watcher looked at Thor, smiling when the boy found the small stash of toys that had been hidden in various places around the observatory earlier that morning. “As well as can be expected,” Heimdall answered. “It was a rocky start. I’m not used to being woken at two a.m. by a wailing child, and the first week was difficult, but we seem to have fallen into a good routine.” In truth, the first week was terrible and had Heimdall seriously debating finding another family to take the baby off his hands, but as the first week morphed into the second, Heimdall realized he couldn’t let Loki go. The tiny baby had wormed his way into the watcher’s heart and there was no better place for him than in Heimdall’s home being raised as Heimdall’s son. 

Frigga smiled. “It is difficult at first, and though I had much help, it still takes a toll. Babies require a lot of attention, a lot of food and a lot of rest. The resting part is wonderful but the other needs can wreak havoc on the nervous system.” She smiled when Loki curled his tiny pudgy fist around her finger. “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer I have a few of the servants reassigned to assist you? Raising a child alone cannot be easy.”

Assistance would make life much easier, Heimdall knew. His job was demanding which left little time for outside activities, but the more Heimdall thought of it, the more he knew he couldn’t have someone else raising his son. Loki was his child, his son, and he would raise the little boy in his own way. If that meant bringing Loki to the observatory every day, then that was what would happen. Already he was clearing out a small section in the corner where he would set partitions for Loki’s own space. He would bring in a rug and some images for the walls, along with toys and a crib. As the child grew, the area would change but he would make sure that there was always a small area that Loki could call his own. 

“I’m sure, Majesty,” Heimdall answered after a moment’s thought. “While help would be appreciated, I believe this is an adventure best carried out alone.” He smiled when Loki let out a little burp and promptly fell asleep in Frigga’s arms. “He must trust you a great deal to sleep so trustingly in your arms.”

The queen looked up smiling beautifully. “Either that or I am very boring,” she said with a teasing smiling. Heimdall laughed. “Thor, come meet the baby. This is Heimdall’s new son.” Expertly, Frigga bent down so that Thor could see the baby. Though it was obvious the little boy was more interested in the tiny robotic ship he was playing with, he trotted over to see what his mother wanted. 

“He’s blue,” Thor said with a twist of his lips and a furrow in his brow. “How come he’s blue? Is he dying?”

Only a child could get away with asking such a question and earn a laugh in reply. “No,” Frigga told him softly, “Loki is of Jötunheim. Just as I am of Vanaheim and you are of Ásgarð. He looks different that’s all.”

Loki chose that moment to wake up and blinked large gold eyes up at the little prince. The two boys stared at each other for countless minutes before Loki broke the staring contest by laughing and wiggling in Frigga’s arms. Thor grinned and reached out to pet the baby’s tiny head. “Hi, Loki,” he whispered then placed a kiss on his forehead. “You can be my friend.” With that declaration he ran off to play with his toys, leaving Frigga and Heimdall alone with the tiny babe. 

~@~

Watching the growth of a person was endlessly fascinating. Loki went from a baby in arms where all he could do was sleep, to a tiny being discovering the world around him. At five months old Loki was interested in everything from the birds to the rainbow bridge to the flowers in Frigga’s gardens. He stared and cooed, and wiggled his way closer to things to look at them. Things often went from his pudgy hands to immediately in his mouth which kept Heimdall on his toes. 

Loki picked up flowers, toys, utensils, straws and once the corner of the rug, putting them all in his mouth the instant his hand closed upon them. When the items were taken away Loki would cry until Heimdall picked him up or handed him his stuffed bilgesnipe which was his favourite thing in the world. He would hug the animal to his chest and roll over on top of it. The animal was nearly as big as Loki was, which was quite amusing when the baby tried to hold onto it when Heimdall was holding him. He loved gnawing on the horns which had permanent creases in them from Loki’s tiny gums. 

~@~

There was a huge thunderstorm wreaking havoc on Ásgarð the day Loki said his first word at just past his sixth month. The sky was dark, hail pelting down from the sky and making tiny tinking sounds as they hit the metal of the Observatory. Inside was warm and comfortable, the sounds of the rain, hail, and even the thunder causing a pleasant background noise to the day. Loki was rolling around on his blanket, not yet able to walk, and though he could crawl he seemed more content with scooting on his stomach and using his feet to push against the floor. He was quite fast for a creature who couldn’t yet stand without holding onto something. For months the baby had been making sounds, babbling and laughing happily through the day but hadn’t said a full word. 

A clap of thunder sounded outside and shook the observatory and Heimdall turned to look at his son, making sure Loki wasn’t scared by the noise. When he looked, the baby was sitting up, holding onto the wall with one hand and holding the bilgesnipe with his other. The little boy looked up at his father and grinned, one tiny tooth peeking out from a line of pink gums. “Pa!” he said proudly, looking at Heimdall. 

The swell of pride and love that burst into Heimdall’s chest nearly took him to his knees. Never had he experienced an emotion so strong and he had to take a moment to collect himself before bending down to scoop his son from the floor. He gave Loki a loud kiss on his cheek making the boy squirm and squeal in delight. “Yes, Loki?” He asked when he was finished giving kisses. 

Loki pointed to the door then patted Heimdall’s cheek with his little hand. “I’m afraid we cannot go outside right now. The thunderstorm is violent and the hail is large. We could get hurt.” Heimdall knew his son couldn’t understand, but Loki watched him with intelligent eyes and seemed to somehow know what his father was saying to him. The little boy said his name again before snuggling in. Heimdall knew at that moment that taking him from Jötunheim had been the right choice. Loki was his, and he was loved and well cared for. He would never want for anything that was Heimdall’s promise to the universe. 

~@~

It wasn’t long after Loki’s first word that he began to say other words: “book”, “more”, “bird”, “fish” and Loki’s absolute favourite, “no.” Everything seemed to be “NO!” shouted in a sour clipped voice that tried Heimdall’s patients to the very end. Even as the months progressed and Loki’s vocabulary grew, he still insisted on saying no to absolutely everything.

“You cannot run down the Rainbow Bridge without me, Loki,” Heimdall explained to his nine month old who only ever ran everywhere and hated to be held. Frigga assured him it was a phase and Loki would eventually grow out of it, but keeping up with energetic tiny legs that never wanted to be caught was tiring. 

“NO!” Loki shouted again pushing against the door to get out. He pounded his tiny fist against the metal then turned and slumped down against it, wailing with fat tears rolling down his cheeks. The display was both heartwrenching and comical and Heimdall didn’t know which emotion to go with. 

Eventually, the watcher settled for heartwrenching when he couldn't stand his son’s wails any longer and scooped the baby into his arms. “Shhh, Little One,” he whispered. “I didn’t say we couldn’t go outside, just that I had to be with you.” The door to the Observatory was usually open when Heimdall was inside, but when Loki became mobile, the door closed for safety reasons. The last thing anyone needed was for the baby to fall off the bridge and into the abyss. 

“Papa,” Loki wailed and pressed his face to his father’s neck, shaking with the force of his cries. He quieted to sniffles then fell silent all together from the rhythmic rubbing of his back. “Si’e,” he said which was his word for “outside.”

It was a beautiful day sunny but cool with huge fluffy clouds moving lazily across the expanse of blue. Odin did not need the use of the Bifrost anytime soon, so taking Loki out wouldn’t be an issue. Technically Heimdall could watch the universe from anywhere, but he enjoyed the peace of the Observatory best so tended to stay there even when the Bifrost would not be needed. “Alright,” he agreed, giving Loki a little tickle to hear his son laugh. There was no better sound in the world than Loki laughing. 

They walked down the bridge, Loki’s little legs moving quickly down the centre of the bridge as they made their way to the palace. Anytime the toddler got close to the outer edge, Heimdall would gently steer him back again. It wasn’t common to baby proof on Ásgarð, but Heimdall wondered if he could get away with installing barriers on the edges of the bridge. Thor often visited, so it would be a safety feature for the prince as well. 

“TOR!” Loki yelled ploughing into the other boy as soon as he saw the prince. The two boys went down in a tangle of limbs landing hard on the soft plush grass of the palace lawn. Loki sat up on Thor’s stomach, laughing happily when the prince gave a little tickle to his belly.

“You’re heavy, Loki,” Thor protested but made no move to get up or push the toddler off of him. “Did you see the storm yesterday? I didn’t do it.” He rolled over carefully, pulling Loki with him so they were lying side by side in the grass. Frigga and Heimdall were only a few feet away from them watching. 

“The storm last night,” Heimdall said, knowing the queen would understand what he was saying.

Frigga looked away from the boys and nodded. “Thor says it wasn’t him, but it was. He was having a bad night. Lots of tantrums.” She sighed and rubbed her forehead, watching the two boys together. “He’ll need to having training to control his lightning. He nearly set his bed on fire.” Loki’s hand had a green glow around it and when he touched one of the flowers buds that grew along trellises leading to the gardens, the bloom opened, red and beautiful. “It looks like your son will need training as well. His power is already strong. Would you allow me to teach him?”

For nine months Heimdall was waiting for that request. He knew when Loki’s talents started to show the queen would want to train him, and he would need training, his power too strong to go unchecked. Though he worried that any training Loki would have would be by Odin’s order, and while he respected his king, and was loyal to the crown, he also knew that Odin would want to use his son in any way he could. Loki’s seiðr was stronger than any had seen in over half a millennia and that kind of power would be coveted by everyone.

The two boys tumbled in the grass together, laughing and playing even though Thor was two years older. It didn’t seem to matter to the boys, who loved wrestling and chasing each other. “I would be honoured, Majesty,” Heimdall answered. “My son will need a strong tutor and no one in Ásgarð is as strong a Seiðrmaðr as you.” Frigga smiled but neither said anything more as they watched the boys play until it was time to part ways for supper. 

Loki fell asleep halfway home, curled against Heimdall’s chest with his little face pressed against his father’s neck trustingly. Again, the warmth spread through Heimdall’s body as he held his son against him, knowing that he would do anything for Loki. There were so many more obstacles ahead of them, but Heimdall was certain the two could weather any storm together. Loki would be powerful, and Heimdall would give him all the love and support a father could give nurturing his power, his intelligence and his love. 

Though Loki’s life on Asgard started in violence, the year that followed was filled with love and warmth. On Loki’s first birthday Heimdall cooked his son’s favourite meal and decorated Loki’s corner of the Observatory in bright greens and golds which seemed to be his son’s favourite colours. A beautiful cake was brought in to be shared with Frigga, Thor and a few others that had become close friends to the family. No one minded when the two toddlers ended up wearing most of their cake rather than eating it, and the night passed with laughter and friendship. 

As Heimdall tucked Loki into his bed that night, pressing a kiss to his temple, he whispered, “fear not, Little One, tonight your dreams will be full of adventures that await you in life. I will be with you every step of the way.” He covered Loki with a thin blanket and made sure his bilgesnipe was close by before placing another kiss on Loki’s head. “I love you my son, happy birthday.”


	3. ADOLESCENCE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snippets of Loki's life from 2 years old through his first century

Teaching Loki was much easier than Heimdall had anticipated by the way Frigga talked about Thor. The young prince was stubborn and always wanted to do things his way, which typically resulted in destroyed furniture and once a flooded throne room. Loki, on the other hand, listened intently and watched with eyes that seemed too old for a toddler to possess before he attempted to do anything on his own. He soaked up knowledge like he was a sponge.

Heimdall stood in front of the bathroom mirror with Loki standing before him on a little stool so he could see over the wash basin. They’d just come from the shower and Loki’s hair was still soaking wet and dripping down his back but he refused to let Heimdall dry it, and so it continued to make a little puddle on the floor by their feet. Very carefully the little boy held his toothbrush against his teeth and gently moved it up and down. “Like this?” He asked with a mouth full of suds.

Frowning down at the growing puddle of cold water at his feet, Heimdall sighed and nodded. “Yes, like that. Please let me dry your hair.” Once again he attempted to wring out Loki’s hair against the small hand towel he held, but his son pushed his hand away. “You’re getting water everywhere.”

“Water dries,” Loki said with a shrug. He leaned over the basin and spit out the suds before drinking water then turning to grin at his father. “I did it! I brushed my teeths myself!” The grin was short lived and he scowled when Heimdall tried to dry his hair one last time. “No Daddy!” Loki cried and jumped off the little stool to run from the room his wet feet slapping against the floor as he ran.

The watcher sighed and followed his son rethinking his earlier assessment of how easy it was to teach Loki new things. Of course, the child was two, and two-year-olds no matter how calm they typically were, had moments of stubbornness. Truly, the first two years were a joy, he should have known there would come a time when Loki’s calm temperament and easy nature would give way to tantrums. “If you want to go to the markets, you have to dry your hair. Do you want me to braid it?”

Loki stopped running, clearly thinking about it before slowly turning to face his father. He was still in his small clothes and was only wearing one sock. There was dried tooth powder at the sides of his mouth and his hair was in disarray. Heimdall would never let his son leave the house looking as he did, but if Loki refused to cooperate, they would stay home all day and Loki knew that. The little boy bit his bottom lip and ran his hands through his short black hair, pulling out tangles as he did. It hung nearly to his shoulders since he also refused to allow it to be cut. He claimed he wanted his hair to be as long as his daddy’s and Heimdall’s hair was pretty long. 

Heimdall raised an eyebrow, waiting for Loki’s answer. The little boy giggled then ran forward, jumping into his father’s arms. “Yes. I want braids,” he said with a nod wrapping his arms around Heimdall’s neck. “Can I get something for Queen Frigga?” Loki, though young, was already taking lessons from Frigga, though Heimdall suspected it was more so that Loki and Thor could play together. “Oh! I want a dog, can I have a dog?”

Every week it was the same question: ‘can I have a dog?’ and every week the answer was the same, “no, not right now.” Loki pouted but sat still while Heimdall braided his hair into sections and secured them behind his head. “Right now, we’re going to wipe your face, get dressed and head to the market. If we see something for the queen we’ll discuss getting it for her. And maybe if you’re very good we can get you a stuffed dog to play with.”

For a moment Heimdall thought he would be subjected to another temper tantrum but Loki shrugged and hopped off his father’s lap. “Okay,” he said then ran to his room to get dressed. When he returned to the main living room Loki was wearing black pants which were on backward and a brown shirt of Heimdall’s that was too long for him to even walk in. He had it tied with a ribbon around his waist that came from who knew where, and two different styles of shoes were on his feet. Heimdall sighed and debated if the clothes was a battle he wanted to pick. In the end, Loki went out wearing exactly that, only with his pants on the correct way. 

The market was already bustling by the time they arrived, vendors selling everything from socks to meat were set up along the streets, and people could be heard haggling over price. Loki held tight to his father’s hand, wanting to walk but not wanting to get lost. The hand holding was never a battle Heimdall had to pick; his son readily held his hand anytime asked. Loki’s gold eyes were wide as he took everything in, looking between stalls and listening to people speak. He loved learning and often paid close attention when adults talked about how things were made or what things did.

They stopped by the blacksmith shop and Loki watched in fascination as the man turned a bar of metal into a small knife. ”It's a dagger!” Loki exclaimed tugging on Heimdall’s hand. ”Look! It’s a dagger! Can I have it?” 

Daggers were in no way a practical weapon for a child as slight as Loki was, but the blade was well made and simple in design. It would be many years before the blade could be sharpened but learning a weapon early wasn’t a bad thing. With a nod, Heimdall agreed and haggled over price while Loki listened with fascination. The light in Loki’s eyes when he was handed the dagger made Heimdall happy, a warmth spread through him.

“Loki?” A little voice called from just outside the forge. 

Loki looked up, holding his dagger in his hands and beamed at Thor from across the room. The blade glinted in the light when Loki took off at a run and jumped on his friend, sending them both to the ground. The two went down in a tangle of limbs and little boy laugher until Thor grunted and cried out. “Loki!” He yelled pushing the toddler off him and sitting up. His tunic had a blood stain on it around the tip of Loki’s little dagger which was lodged into his midsection. “You stabbed me!”

The wound wasn’t deep and would heal in a matter of hours but Heimdall didn’t doubt it hurt. He rushed over to the little prince, wondering where Frigga or Thor’s attendant was. “Thor?”

“I’m okay,” the prince assured them then turned to Loki who was watching them with large eyes filling with water. Thor’s hand came up to cup the back of Loki’s neck and pulled him closer to whisper as the first fat tear fell. Loki’s little hand still clutched the hilt of the dagger which was no longer in Thor’s midsection. “You stabbed me,” Thor said, then laughed. “I can’t believe you stabbed me.”

The tears stopped and Loki looked from the dagger to Thor then grinned. Frigga ran over to squat next to Heimdall but the wound was already closed when they looked at it, the dagger not having gone in very deep because of the blunt edges. “I didn’t mean to,” Loki said with a pout then giggled and hugged Thor’s neck snuggling into the older boy. “Sorry. 

With Thor not hurt, and Loki not crying, the two families finished the day together, walking through the market and talking to the vendors. Loki found a stuffed wolf and refused to let it go, happily walking through the rest of the day hugging the little grey animal to his chest. They found some spices Loki insisted on giving to Frigga and Thor found bracers with beautiful knotwork that fit his tiny arms. At the end of the day, the two families went their separate ways and Thor assured Loki again that he was okay with a kiss to the forehead.

~@~

The week was filled with thunderstorm after thunderstorm keeping a four-year-old Loki inside and utterly bored. He looked out the door to the observatory, now open like it was before Heimdall brought Loki home, and sighed as the rain continued to fall on the rainbow bridge. He was laying by the door on his stomach with paper and coloured pencils scattered around him as Heimdall worked behind him. Already he’d finished two drawings and was working on a third and it was just past lunch time. He sighed and looked over his drawings, frowning.

“Dad?” Loki called and rolled over to sit up. He glanced down at his hand and traced the little white lines that had a slight indent into his skin. “How come I’m blue and no one else is?”

Heimdall turned his head, glancing at Loki then walked over to sit beside him on the floor. Hail plinked against the bridge outside, causing a nice static noise to the day. “You know of the realms,” he said and Loki nodded. “There is a realm we were at war with when you were born, Jötunheim. Their world is dark and full of ice, and the people giants.” 

Loki looked at his hands then took Heimdall’s and looked at his hands. “So I’m a giant? I’m not very big.”

The hand holding Loki’s tightened, threading their fingers together and Heimdall smiled softly at Loki looking at his tiny hands. “You were born of Jötunheim, but you’re my son. When the war was ending we were caught in a battle at a temple with your parents. It was a mistake that it happened but your family was killed and I could not bear the thought of a tiny babe being left to the elements in hopes someone would find him.”

“But… why were you attacking my parents?” Loki asked, frowning

Heimdall turned Loki so they could see one another. “It was a gruesome war, Loki. Many battles with many people lost on both sides. Your mother loved you, please do not think you were not loved.” He sighed knowing this question was inevitable but had always been dreading it. “But when we came upon a group of Jötunn we fought them. Your mother was clutching you when she was killed and by the battle’s end, no Jötunn were left in the temple. I took you because I could not bear the thought of a babe being left alone to die.” He tilted Loki’s head up, pressing their foreheads together and whispered, “you are my son and I love you. I do not care that our skin colour is not the same. It matters not. What matters is the love I feel for you and that will never change.”

The two sat in silence for a while, Loki thinking things over and Heimdall wondering what was about to happen. The thunder continued to rattle the observatory as the storms raged on. Eventually, an hour, maybe more, later, Loki finally stirred. He tilted his head back and nodded. “You’re my dad and this is my home and I love it here.” 

The number of times Heimdall feeling like sobbing could have been counted on one hand, but in that instant, he felt his eyes tear up. Blinking them back he hugged Loki tightly to his chest. “And you are my son, and I love you, Loki.”

Loki beamed then tilted his head looking confused. “So does this mean I’m going to be bigger than Thor?”

~ @ ~

The day was beautiful; not too hot, not too cold, and not a cloud in the sky. It was a perfect day for a walk in the gardens or a sparring match and Thor was itching to go outside. Mostly he was itching to get away from his boring lessons of history and economic policy so as soon as the chimes of the clock rang out, Thor was out of his chair and out the door before his tutor could utter a word. 

He debated on going to the Observatory to see Loki, but likely his friend was engrossed in a boring book and wouldn’t want to talk. Fendral was always a good choice to go see, they always had fun together, sparring and wrestling, but Fendral was older and lately only interested in flirting with everyone they met. Thor was sure when he became 12 he would want to do the same, but at eight, he was more interested in swimming in the ponds and learning the sword than he was in flirting. Instead of seeing one of his friends he opted to take a swim at the pond in his mother’s gardens.

The gardens were beautiful. Flowers of every colour were in full bloom with stone walkways through the hedges leading to the oasis in the middle. He skipped along, sometimes stopping to watch the bees collect pollen, but it wasn’t long before he reached the centre. No one was there, so Thor stripped down to his smalls and settled against a rock on the edge of the water. A few feet from him he noticed a beautiful little snake, green with glittering black markings that watched him lazily from its own rock. The creature was likely bathing itself in the sun trying to keep warm. 

As gently as he could, Thor scooped the tiny creature into his hands and held it carefully. “Hello,” he said stroking the green head. The snake had amazingly bright green eyes in a colour he’d never seen on a snake before. “You’re quite beautiful. I’ve not seen you here before.” It was silly, talking to a snake when the creature couldn’t talk back but Thor didn’t care. “I’m a little jealous of you. Here you are, sunning yourself on a rock when I was stuck in boring classes all day. I much rather have been out here enjoying myself, or maybe napping. Napping is always fun.” The snake flicked out its tongue and Thor laughed as it tickled his hand. 

In a move too quick for Thor to react the snake moved, its body rippling until Loki was sitting straddling Thor’s lap and a sharp piercing lanced through Thor’s side. “OW!”

“It’s me!” Loki yelled in triumph as Thor glared at him, gripping the handle of the dagger Loki had thrust into him. “I successfully shifted into my first shape! You thought I was pretty?”

Thor glared at him, then grimaced when he pulled the dagger out and tossed it aside. “That hurt you know!”

Loki stuck out his tongue. “You’ll live.”

“Yes, but I won’t enjoy it!”

The younger boy rolled his eyes but covered the wound with his hand. His hand and Thor’s side glowed green for a moment before the wound stitched back together and it was as if the stabbing had never happened. “Baby,” Loki muttered but was grinning. He was also still straddling Thor’s lap and the prince shoved him back causing Loki to fall into the pond. “HEY!” he cried when he’d surfaced and spit the water from his mouth.

“That’s what you get!” Thor yelled back and pounced, sending Loki back into the water. The two boys wrestled, splashing around and jumping on one another until they were both too tired to move. Climbing onto the bank they collapsed side by side. Thor glanced at his friend. “That’s really neat that you can do that though, be a snake I mean. Can you do anything else?”

“I can do lots of things,” Loki answered and stuck his tongue out again. Thor rolled his eyes. “But no, I can only be a snake. Your mom says I’ll be able to shift into anything I want eventually, though. I think I want to try to be a bird. Or maybe a wolf. OH! A bilgesnipe!”

Thor laughed, imagining his friend as a bilgesnipe. Loki was certainly powerful enough, and maybe they could go off on a grand adventure together once Loki mastered his ability. “I think you can do it,” Thor whispered. Loki beamed in reply. 

~@~

Seiðr lessons were Loki’s favourite time of the week. For six years, starting the year Loki turned two, he spent an afternoon with Frigga learning how to control his power. Often she commented on how strong Loki was, his power unmatched by any in all of the nine realms. Loki didn’t care about that, though, he loved learning and learning to control the world around him was infinitely fascinating. He could control water, pulling it from the air in gas form, and solidifying it into a liquid, he could start a fire on a candle wick, and his highest achievement, he could shift his form into that of another creature. Queen Frigga called it “shapeshifting” and that Loki was naturally a “shapeshifter.” The power wasn’t something that many people had, even if they were very strong in other talents. Frigga couldn’t do it, and as far as she knew, Loki was the only one living. At eight years old, Loki could shift into a snake (his favourite form), a horse, a cat, and he could become fully a female which he chose to shift into often, enjoying the fluidity of controlling his gender. 

“Loki?”

He looked up, blinking at Frigga who held a cup of tea out for him. “Oh! Sorry,” he whispered with a little purple flush painting his cheeks. He took the cup and sipped, humming as the flavour of his favourite tea flowed over his tongue. He loved tea time. The little scones and clotted cream, the biscuits, and the delicious fruity tea. It was also the time after his lessons when they were relaxing. “Do you think I’ll be able to shapeshift into more shapes someday? I was trying for a bilgesnipe but I can’t seem to do it.”

The queen looked thoughtful for a moment, never giving an answer without thinking about it first. It was one of the things Loki loved most about her, how poised and controlled she was. He looked up to her in that way, wanting to emulate her quiet and unassuming demeanour. She was a fierce warrior, controlled and talented with a sword as much as she was with her magics. “I believe that you’ll have unlimited power over the universe,” she said after a while. “You are so very powerful, your magic untrained, but once you learn to control, you’ll be able to do almost anything.”

Loki said nothing to that, not sure if he wanted that level of power. It would be a huge responsibility one he would have to take care not to abuse. “I’ll work on the bilgesnipe for now,” he said after a moment and grinned. Frigga smiled back. “Do you think I can take some cakes home for dad? He likes when I do that.”

“Of course,” the queen agreed with a nod and kind of smile that Loki couldn’t interpret. 

An hour later Loki skipped into the observatory and wrapped his arms around Heimdall’s waist. “Hi, Dad! I have brought you cakes.” He held out a little container which Heimdall took with a sigh. “I've brought strawberry and chocolate.” Heimdall sat on the steps leading to the platform with the sword and nodded looking not as enthusiastic as Loki would have thought he’d be. “You like them, do you not?” he asked.

The watcher nodded calmly, “they are very sweet. Thank you, son.” He took out a tiny cake, bite-sized, and popped it into his mouth. “It is delicious. Did you have fun with Frigga?” Heimdall ate another cake, a grimace covering his face before he managed to suppress it into a soft smile. 

“Always,” Loki beamed and snuggled against Heimdall’s side. 

~@~

Shapeshifting was one of Loki’s favourite abilities, but his true forms, the skins he felt were truly him, was his birth form, and his lady’s form. The first time he’d shifted fully into a female was when he was four years old. His skin deepened to a golden brown, caught between Thor’s beautiful cream colour and his father’s stunning rich chocolate. His eyes were mostly gold but held a ring of green around the edges making it look like a starburst. As he grew, his lady’s form developed like any woman’s would, with his chest filling out and his hips curving to give him a stunning hourglass figure. The first time his father had caught him exploring himself had been utterly embarrassing and lead to conversations Loki wanted to forget. 

At 48, Loki was not yet officially an adult and would not be introduced into court life until his 100th year, but he was old enough to attend most court functions without a chaperone. He didn’t quite understand the point of that rule but supposed it had to do with his officially becoming Thor’s personal guard on his 100th year of birth. Not having to worry about anything official gave him the chance to have fun, to flirt, to play court games which he adored, and to be Thor’s friend without other complications. 

The summer festival was Loki’s favourite time of year, even if it was too hot for him. An entire week was filled with food, drink, dance, and vendors from several realms selling their wares. Loki loved to shop, and dragged Thor from stall the stall to stall in search of the perfect items to buy. He would buy clothes for his lady form, clothes for his master’s form, and presents for his friends, loading Thor’s arms down with bag after bag until neither of them could possibly hold another bag. Thor had laughed one year that Loki would single handedly stimulate the economy. 

While every year was amazing, holding something new for Loki to look forward to, that year was extra special. Thor turned 50 years old, and with that age came the promise of a great surprise from Odin All-father. No one knew what was planned, but a great feast was set up in Thor’s honour and Loki decided to attend in his Lady’s form. Her hair was pulled into intricate braids and curls, and she wore a dress that clung to her curves and flowed around her ankles like water. Her nails were painted a dusky blue to match her dress and his make-up gave the appearance of larger eyes while highlighting the starburst in the centre. 

As she walked through court, making her way into the palace eyes seemed to turn and stare but Loki paid no attention. She would see Thor first and congratulate him for his accomplishments as Ásgarð’s greatest fighter and the reward he would receive. As she made her way up the steps, she spotted Thor with Fandral several yards away and turned in their direction. It wasn’t hard to pinpoint the exact moment Thor saw her. He stopped speaking, his eyes widening and the mug of mead in his hand slipped and clattered against the stone floors. Fandral laughed. 

“Who is that?” Thor asked in a whisper that was loud enough to carry to Loki’s ears. “She’s stunning. Skin, soft and flawless the colour of milk chocolate with eyes that look like a supernova. She is a princess? She must be to be so lovely.”

Fandral glanced over then rolled his eyes. “It’s Loki, Thor. Put your eyes back in your head before she digs them out with her claws.” Fandral and Loki were good friends but enjoyed quick banter and heavily implied innuendo. They never took what the other said seriously and Loki doubted they would ever tire of trying to one-up the other. He did give her a once over, but there was no heated lust in his gaze other than the game the two played. 

“My lady,” Fandral drolled when Loki arrived at their side. He picked up her hand and kissed the back, making sure to give a gentle nip at the skin. Loki scowled and Fandral just laughed. “The night’s sky which dances in colours of blue and green with glittering stars scattered about cannot compare to the beauty that is before me.”

Loki rolled her eyes and smiled. “Yes, I imagine you’ve yet to see beauty such as myself. But feast your eyes as long as you wish, my friend. I would not dare to deprive you of such a view.” Fandral laughed but Thor hadn’t spoken a word. Loki glanced at him. “Thor?”

“I-” he said then cleared his throat. “Apologies, Loki. I did not realize it was you. You truly are a vision to behold.” He kissed her hand and Loki could feel a flush spreading to her cheeks. “Come, you will stand with me tonight.” He offered her his arm and the two swept into the palace, Loki taking her place beside Frigga as Thor walked down the centre aisle among their people. 

“He’s not being made king, is he?” Loki asked, a worried look on her face. While Thor was a wonderful man, he wasn’t ready to be king. He was far too arrogant, and headstrong. He didn’t understand the intricacies of politics or how to spin a demand in such a way as to make the person think it was their idea all along. Loki was not yet old enough to officially sit in on court proceedings and without her there to help, she feared Thor would bring Ásgarð to her knees. He would be a wonderful king, someday, but he was still far too young to hold such a title. 

Frigga laughed softly, noticing Loki’s distraught look. “Fear not, he is not being made king. That will be many years yet. He has not reached his majority after all.” Loki could only nod as Thor finally reached the dais where Odin was standing. 

“Thor, my son,” Odin began, his voice carrying out among the crowd. “You have proven yourself a great warrior, a skilled strategist and a power beyond measure. Today, on your 50th year of birth, I gift to you Mjolnir.” Odin placed a beautiful hammer on the ground between them. Even from her place beside the queen, Loki could see the carvings on the head, intricate knotwork and beautiful lettering. “Only the worthy can pick up this hammer, and with it, the ability to control the thunder that rolls through your body. She will help you harness your power, she will help you control it, and together, you will protect Ásgarð and the Nine Realms.”

Thor looked around. The crowd behind him cheered and chanted his name, loving him even at 50 years old. Thor was their champion, their beloved golden prince and Loki smiled as she watched him shift from foot to foot. “Only the worthy” Odin had said, and Loki could tell Thor was unsure. Thor looked up, glancing at Loki and she smiled at him, proud of her best friend in a way she’d never been before. She loved him with her heart and she knew there were few who were as worthy as Thor. Slowly, she nodded to him.

The hall quieted as Thor approached the hammer and turned so all could see him. With a steeling breath that only Loki could see him take, the thunderer bent down, and picked up the hammer, lifting it high in the air. Around him, lightning crackled and outside the thunder boomed so loudly the palace shook. Loki looked around then back at Thor, seeing the lightning arc around him and with a roar of excitement, a bolt slammed into the top of the hammer and the crowd erupted in cheers. Loki grinned, never prouder of her friend who would finally be able to wield the power she could feel inside him. 

~@~

Snow was amazing. It was glittery, and cold, and wet, and could be sculpted into various shapes for decoration or throwing. Loki absolutely loved it. Thor, on the other hand, looked utterly miserable as he pulled his jacket around him tighter in hopes of warding off the chill. Loki shook out of his cloak and handed it to Thor who took it gratefully and wrapped it around himself. 

“I don’t understand how you can like this stuff, “ he muttered, glaring at Loki as if the younger boy had somehow brought the snow.

“How can you NOT?!” Loki answered excitedly. “It’s so beautiful! I can’t believe your father allowed me to come along to the diplomatic meeting with the Midgardians. This is very exciting. And look at the sky!” He pointed up at the beautiful expanse of black with greens and purples swirling together in a dance. “Can you believe this sky?” 

Thor glanced up and scoffed. “It’s just the solar winds bouncing off the electromagnetic field of the planet.” The prince trudged forward, following Odin to the village they saw below their landing point. 

Loki glared at him as he followed behind the other two. “I KNOW that,” he muttered. “Just because there’s a scientific reason for it doesn’t mean it’s not pretty. It’s very pretty, Thor.”

It was pretty, and watching Loki’s reaction to the snow and the auroras made Thor just a little less cold. He stopped and watched as his friend sat in the snow and rolled in it, laughing at Loki’s happy expression. At 75 years of age, Loki had never been off Ásgarð, but as Thor’s best friend, and his eventual personal guard when he turned 100 and was officially considered an adult, Thor convinced Odin to let Loki tag along. It was worth every bit of pleading, just to see Loki so happy. 

“Stay close, boys,” Odin commanded riding astride his horse. Loki and Thor looked up at the All-Father then grinned at one another before running to catch up. 

Loki slowed as they got closer to the village where the Midgardian’s lived. The humans were primitive but their realm was part of the Nine Realms and the swords they created were quite remarkable. Strong and flexible and lightweight which was exactly what a warrior wanted. They also wrote amazing stories, some of which Thor brought back for Loki to read, all handwritten and illustrated. Those books Loki treasured above all others. 

Though it was dark outside the village was bustling with excitement. A large fire was in the centre of what Loki thought was the main square and people were selling various items, others were playing instruments and others dancing and singing. It was lively and fun. Loki instantly saw the appear of Midgard. Thor looked less thrilled but that might have had more to do with him shivering.

Odin ordered them to stay out of the main cabin, so the two had the evening to themselves. Loki found some mead and bought them two tankards then sat on a log by the fire. “You really don’t like it?” He asked, handing Thor is mead.

Thor shrugged. “It’s fine, just cold. I guess tomorrow when the sun is out it’ll be better. Of course, the sun will only be out for 5 hours.” He scowled and downed his mead before looking around for more. Loki handed Thor his untouched mug and Thor smiled before sipping at it. “I’m glad you’re with me though,” he whispered leaning a little closer. “You look strange with cream coloured skin and green eyes.”

Loki looked at his hands which were the same colour at Thor’s. His hair was still black but his eyes were a bright green and he could no longer see his markings. “It is strange. Do I look bad?” He looked up, eyes drawn together in worry.

Thor took a moment to look at Loki, his smile falling as he leaned in a little more so their breath was caressing one another’s faces. “No,” he whispered reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind Loki’s ear, “no, you’re always beautiful, Loki. As a man, as a woman, a snaked, or even the bilgesnipe,” they both laughed softly, "you're beautiful." Thor’s fingers traced Loki’s face gently, sweeping down his nose, over his jaw and across his lips. 

“Thor,” Loki whispered, eyes going dark.

The kiss was and wasn’t expected. Expected because the last few years they’d been growing closer together, giving each other little touches and heated stares when no one was looking. But it was unexpected too because Loki never suspected Thor would truly want him as more than a good friend. A hot tongue flicked out and pushed between Loki’s lips making him moan and press closer to his the prince. Before he realized what was happening, he was straddling Thor’s lap, hands in his hair and kissing him as if his life depended on it. 

“Loki,” Thor growled and pulled him back in, kissing him again. He slid his hands down, clutching at Loki’s ass and tugging so their hard lengths were pressed together. 

Loki groaned, breaking the kiss. “Thor?” He was hard and wanted Thor with a hunger he couldn’t remember having for anyone else. Thor wouldn’t be his first, but he wasn’t experienced and Loki bit his lip, worried he wouldn’t be enough and Thor would pull away. He couldn’t bear it if Thor left. “Your friendship is worth more than a quick fuck,” he whispered, his forehead pressed to Thor’s.

The hands on his ass tightened even more, and their breaths misted in the cold air between them. “It could never be a quick fuck with you, Loki,” Thor said. “You’re too important to me, but tell me you don’t want this and we’ll forget it.”

Could they do that? Go back to a time before they’d kissed? Could they go back to flirting? To little glances and caresses. Could they go back to how things were before where they pretended they didn’t want each other? Loki shook his head. “I want this.”

Thor grinned and stood, keeping Loki in his lap and laughing when the younger man gave a squeak and tightened his legs. “I won’t drop you,” Thor promised with a grin. He kept Loki where he was, grinning at the whistles and catcalls he was getting from the men and many of the women as he carried Loki to the inn and up the stairs to their room. He kicked the door open, then kicked it closed before walking to the bed and placing Loki down gently. “I want to see you. The real you, not this glamour.”

The cream skin morphed slowly into dusky blue with white lines curling around his limbs and his eyes went from a bright green to glittering gold. Thor smiled and bent to take his mouth again. “I am going to enjoy removing these offending garments from your body. I will let my eyes feast on your flesh, and then I will follow the path my eyes took with my mouth until you are writhing in pleasure.”

Loki blinked at him then burst out laughing. He gasped, curled on his side shaking from the force of his laughter while Thor glared at him. “So-sorry,” he wheezed. “No, really I’m sorry, it’s just,” he paused, getting his laughter under control and sitting up, “do you say that to everyone? It’s so cheesy.”

Thor scowled and folded his arms. “I was trying to be sexy.”

Loki laughed again then pulled Thor to him. “You are sexy but not because of words or declarations but because you are my friend and I have loved you since the day my father brought me home. I have vowed my life to protect yours and now I give my pleasure to you as well as my life.”

Poetry spoke like a spell that had Thor going hard in his breeches. He groaned again and gripped the sides of Loki’s tunic and tugged, rendering the fabric in two to expose Loki’s skin to his eyes. A feast before him and Loki arched as Thor’s mouth found a nipple and sucked it. He’d always had sensitive nipples, but Thor’s mouth was hotter than any and he could feel a prick of electricity everywhere Thor touched. “You pledged yourself to me, and in return, I will give you this.” 

Slowly, Thor made his way down Loki’s body, licking and kissing as he went. He nipped at dusky blue nipples, sucked each line of his ribs and bit into his hipbones making Loki moan and spread his legs farther. “How many forms do you have?” He asked before sliding his tongue up the underside of Loki’s cock. 

It took a moment for Loki to realize Thor had asked him a question, his brain too busy shorting out from the pleasure he was getting. Loki was convinced he could find Valhalla in Thor’s mouth. Taking a breath, he answered, “as many as I want, but if you mean the forms I feel are my true self, then there are two. This form, and my lady’s form.” Being a shapeshifter meant he was comfortable in any form he chose, but there were only two he felt were him, wholly and completely him, not just a borrowed skin. His birth form with blue skin, originally red eyes turned to gold to match his father’s and white lines etched over his limbs in intricate patterns that Thor seemed determined to memorize with his mouth and his lady’s form. “I am comfortable in both.” 

Thor swallowed, taking Loki down his throat and lapping at the underside of his cock as he went. Loki arched and settled a leg over Thor’s back, giving the thunderer more room. “Which have you done this in?”

“This?” Loki asked innocently.

The growl his question earned vibrated along his skin and caused his body to clench. He cried out when Thor swallowed again and brought Loki to a quick orgasm. “Yes, Loki. This act which we are performing. Have you lain with someone in both forms?”

A lie formed on the tip of Loki’s tongue but he swallowed it back. He was good at lying, he knew that. Navigating court demanded a silver tongue and quick wit, but Thor wasn’t like the courtiers who only wanted to elevate their status by becoming friends with him. Thor never played games, never engaged in court intrigue. He was Loki’s best friend, a confidant and he deserved the truth. “I have only been in my lady's form when having sex, though I am not as experienced as I let on. My father is quite protective, as you know, and many assume he can see everything. It makes finding a paramour… difficult.”

It was well known how experienced Thor was, bedding many men and women who caught his eye and Loki didn’t want to disappoint him because he wasn’t as knowledgeable. “Loki,” Thor whispered and tilted his chin up. “I would be honoured to be your first as you are now.” Loki sat up, pulling Thor with him so they could kiss deeply. 

“We will do everything tonight,” Thor growled and a rumble of thunder followed his words. "In your Lady's form and your Master's form, you will know much pleasure tonight." Loki moaned, and pulled Thor back to him, spreading his legs and allowing Thor to settle between. They had an entire night and both intended to use it. 

Loki woke the next day sore, but incredibly happy. Thor’s arm was a heavy weight over his side and he turned over to face thunderer, his one-day king. Gently fingers traced Thor’s jaw, over his nose and across his closed eyes smiling when all Thor did was grunt in his sleep. “I, Loki,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss to Thor’s lips, “Lord of Ásgarð, Heimdallson, Watcher of the Nine Realms, the rightful king of Jötunheim, god of mischief, do hereby pledge to you my undying fidelity.”


End file.
